


Security Minded

by Waldo



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Humor, Silly, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:23:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldo/pseuds/Waldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Traveling with Sherlock Holmes was just full of adventure... even before they even made it to their plane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Security Minded

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fic that was well, hijacked by this website: http://www.heathrowairport.com/heathrow-airport-guide/heathrow-security/
> 
> I needed one little piece of information... and then I got to reading. And then I thought... "What if Sherlock ever saw this?"
> 
> Most of this fic was written in an (admittedly American) airport.

There had been a bad time at an airport in Prague that meant it had taken Sherlock an additional four days (and a ridiculous solicitor’s fee and bail money that John had had to wire him) to get home that led to the fact that John accompanied Sherlock on his out-of-town cases as often as humanly possible now.

They were in line to check their bags for a trip to Chicago when John remembered what it was that had Sherlock arrested in the Czech Republic. He turned to Sherlock, hoping the general hubbub of Heathrow would cover his voice from anyone who might be trying to eavesdrop. “While I am sure that you have, at this point, deduced at least a dozen holes in the security scheme in the airport, you will _not_ start enumerating the ways you could sneak an explosive onto the plane, were you so inclined,” John told him.

“Well, not _again_ ,” Sherlock answered.

“Not even a little,” John agreed.

“John there were _seventeen_ ways I could have –“

“Not even a little, Sherlock.”

“Fine.”

“If you really think the Home Office would benefit from your observations, write them up and send them to them. Or tell Mycroft to tell… who ever he tells. Or put them on your blog once we get home. Do not try to educate people when we actually want to fly somewhere,” John suggested.

“I should tell them about the twenty-seven ways I could conceal a nine inch blade –“

“No, Sherlock. No, you shouldn’t. Not today.” John cut him off before Sherlock could attract the attention of an air marshal or even just an off-duty bobby who might take exception.

“Fine,” Sherlock huffed.

“Show me your I.D.” John pressed as the line inched forwards.

“I have an I.D.,” Sherlock protested.

“You have _no less_ than eight passports. One is Mycroft’s, one says you're from Texas, one is actually yours and the other five are false identities and were provided by your network of local deviants. Do not mess with the airport authorities, Sherlock.”

Grudgingly, Sherlock pulled his passport wallet out, took out the one that had been tucked into it - which happened to say he was a citizen of Iceland - and replaced it with his own legal, certified one. “Happy?”

“Not the first word that jumps to mind,” John said as they slid their bags a few inches closer to the ticketing desk.

“Have you ever read the internet FAQ on what you can bring on planes -?”

“Sherlock!” John warned.

“What? You asked me not to discuss the things that are disallowed. I am now also not allowed to discuss the things that _are_ allowed?”

“Fine. What is it that you find exceptional that people can bring on the plane?” John was hoping this wouldn’t lead to some sort of uproar.

“Knitting needles are now allowed on most flights. Crochet hook have long been allowed, but they aren’t nearly as sharp or as long. You wouldn’t be able to conceal, say, an ice pick or a long needle of poison in a –“

“Someone is going to flag you, Sherlock, I swear.”

“It’s not like I _have_ an ice pick. It’s just that you could.” Sherlock cut off at the look from John. “Fine. Do you know they enumerate in the FAQ that it is permissible to carry your glasses on the plane?”

John turned a quizzical look Sherlock’s direction before glaring at two rough-housing boys who were on the other side of the queue rope, but were bumping into both John’s bag and legs. “What, like beer steins or something?” This, at least, seemed a conversation that wouldn’t end up with them answering questions to some Home Office agent.

“No, John, _glasses_ ,” Sherlock said again, pressing his rounded hands against his eyes. “Someone – my guess is many someones since it appears on the _frequently_ asked questions list – asked if it was okay to bring their eyeglasses on the plane. As if the airline staff would _prefer_ that fifty-one point seven four percent of their passengers stagger around the aeroplane, bumping into each other and unable to read the seat assignment placards.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that one. It does seem like an odd thing to need to mention on the FAQ.”

“Also umbrellas. People have apparently asked in sufficient numbers about being allowed to carry umbrellas on board so that it gets put into the questions list.”

“Must relieve Mycroft no end,” John chipped in.

“He’s probably responsible. For both the rule and the FAQ. Because I can think of six different ways to use the parts of a standard umbrella to –“

John cleared his throat loudly. “Oh look, we’re at the desk.”

Wisely, Sherlock let John do all the talking as they were checked in for their flight, their bags were checked and they were issued boarding passes. He even smiled politely as he produced his one legal piece of identification.

Their boarding passes collected and large suitcases deposited, they made their way to passenger screening. As they queued up again, Sherlock hitched his carry on up onto his shoulder. “Wig spray,” he told John apropos to nothing.

John scanned their fellow passengers.

“No, John, on the list. For some reason even I have been unable to deduce, the FAQ spells out that it is permissible to bring wig spray on the plane as long as it’s less than one hundred milliliters.”

John had to think about that for a second. “Is wig spray somehow different than regular hairspray?”

Sherlock look confounded for a brief second before admitting, “I have no idea. It’s never come up. I shall… have to look into it. Speaking of which, people who fly are apparently quite concerned with their hair. The list also said it is permissible to carry gas hair tongs.”

“Gas hair… gas?” John had to admit that he really didn’t know much about hair tongs or hair irons or any of those things in general.

“Apparently they’re for women who must curl their hair immediately and don’t have access to an electrical socket.”

John raised an eyebrow, wondering what might make Sherlock so familiar with these things.

“I converted one into a make-shift taser when I was working a case in Birmingham.”

“I don’t think I even want to know how you did that,” John said.

“Crash helmets. Apparently there are people who think that wearing a crash helmet will save them when half-a-million tonnes of steel comes crashing to the ground in firey little bits from thirty-five thousand feet-“

“Sherlock…” John warned under his breath, hoping the security officer they were only three or four people from now wasn’t paying attention to them yet.

“Not good?”

“Not good.”

“Getting too close to –“ Sherlock gave John’s expression a moment of consideration, “Those things best not discussed right now.”

John smiled at him tightly.

Sherlock looked around at the queue of other passengers. He quickly deduced that most were families either heading out on or returning from holiday as was usual on a summer weekend. There was the odd businessperson traveling for work on a Saturday. By the state of one young woman’s face and the tissue in her hand and the text still visible on her phone Sherlock deduced that she was going to a funeral of someone she was close to, someone who had died unexpectedly. Nothing to talk about there. One little girl had a bag from the gift store at the Sea Life London Aquarium with a plush octopus and dolphin sticking out of the top. Sherlock had been known to visit the aquarium when he needed somewhere peaceful to think. He turned to John, “Did you know that moray eels are actually capable of tying themselves in knots?”


End file.
